


Nightswimming

by PanthaPrincess



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanthaPrincess/pseuds/PanthaPrincess
Summary: Legolas makes a choice that will change the fate of the Middle Earth forever, but will his relationship with the Sons of Elrond survive it? Love is always strained by war, but now the princes have to come to terms with the fact that one of them may not make it home.~ A Love Letter to Minuial_Nuwing's Princes Three Series. An unofficial continuation of the story looking at the time leading up to the Fellowship leaving Rivendell.
Relationships: Elladan/Elrohir (Tolkien), Elladan/Elrohir/Legolas Greenleaf, Elladan/Legolas Greenleaf, Elrohir/Legolas Greenleaf, Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 84





	1. The Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minuial_Nuwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuial_Nuwing/gifts).



> _Nightswimming, remembering that night  
>  September's coming soon  
> I'm pining for the moon  
> And what if there were two  
> Side by side in orbit  
> Around the fairest sun?  
> That bright, tight forever drum  
> Could not describe Nightswimming_
> 
> Minuial_Nuwing very kindly gave me permission to play with their version of Tolkien's universe. I've written this with the view that the reader has knowledge of the original series, so if you don't I strongly suggest you head over there and give it a read, as there is no introduction of previously set up relationships or storylines. But seriously, it's a very enjoyable prerequisite, Minuial_Nuwing's Princes Three Series is pure brilliance.
> 
> I hope I have done the author justice, but please bear in mind that this is a fanwork of a fanwork, (Using book and film logic) so it may not be quite the same as the original. But with any luck I have added something to the Princes Three world and perhaps satisfied the curiosities of those who had hoped the original series would continued (like me!)
> 
> Title from Nightswimming by REM

_~Mirkwood 3018 III~_

His strides fell on solid ground, though Legolas could not see the surface which lay beneath his feet. On and on he ran, until the muscles in his thighs began to burn, suggesting he'd been running for quite some time; It took a lot to exhaust one as fit as he. Where he was running to, he had no inkling, though he sensed that safety lay far behind him and not in front. At his back he felt a warm glowing light, like the last evening rays of a midsummer sun, and all he could see ahead was cold blackness. Yet, he kept on running towards this shapeless danger, knowing in his heart it was the path he must take. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears _boom, boom, boom_. On he ran until the shadows swallowed him whole...

_Boom, boom, boom..._

“Híren?”

_Boom, boom, boom._

Legolas awoke with a start, lurching bolt upright in bed, his mind still foggy and disorientated from his vivid dream. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around, trying to ground himself. Mirkwood, his own chambers, his own bed. Judging by the deep orange light filtering into the room over the tops of the woven branch walls, it was the last few moments of sunset. He'd slept the whole day it seemed. 

“My lord?” A slightly uneasy voice called through the thick oak door followed by three more booming knocks. 

Scrubbing his hand over his face, the second-born prince of Mirkwood reluctantly swung his legs out of bed and slipped on a discarded pair of leggings which were still crusted with mud from the patrol he finished mere hours ago. 

“Who is it?” He called through the door. 

“Orondil, my lord,” the voice replied, the note of disquiet still present in his voice. 

Why would the chief prison guard have need to call on him at this hour? A frown tugged at Legolas's brow as he unbolted the door and pulled it open. 

“I apologise from disturbing your slumber, híren, but I thought you should know: When I went down to relieve the day guards a moment ago, I discovered they had not yet returned from their trip to the forest.”

Legolas blinked a few times still trying to rid the fogginess of sleep from his mind and focus on the meaning of the words being spoken. 

“They took the creature out today since the fair weather will be ending soon. We thought it would improve his constitution to get a little air every now and then,” he explained, sensing the prince's lack of understanding.

Legolas nodded in dawning comprehension, then frowned. “And they have not returned? Do they go far?” he questioned.

“Nay, my lord, only to the first clearing south of here, where the lone oak grows. The creature seems to enjoy climbing it. But they usually return in the early afternoon.”

“I see,” said Legolas, running a hand through his unbraided hair and discovering a number of small twigs and leaves, left behind after the cursory brush through he'd managed before tumbling into bed. “Very well, gather a small search party, include as few from the last patrol as possible, but rouse Tiriadon, if you will. I will join you in the courtyard.”

The guard bowed and said, “Of course, my lord,” before hurrying away to do as he was bid. 

Legolas closed the door and leant against it briefly, the cool wood on his bare back soothing the persistent ache of a body unrested. So much for the repose he'd been hoping to catch up on. The prince had been on patrol solidly for three moons thanks to the ingress of spiders and the increase in orch activity, who seemed to get bolder with each passing year. 

The world had grown darker. Gone were the days of steady peace, no matter how fragile it might have been. The forest which had not that long since been reclaimed from the clutches of evil had once again become a dangerous place. Just when the elves of Mirkwood thought that no more ill could befall their land, more would come, meaning that guards and warriors were stretched so thin that breaks were few and far between. 

Legolas's only respite was his trips to Imladris, and even they had lessened in the past decade. Today was meant to mark the beginning of his latest trip: two weeks of attending court and dealing with internal affairs while his body recuperated in preparation for the treacherous journey across the Misty Mountains. 

Plaiting his nature strewn hair into a single braid that lay down the centre of his back, Legolas pulled a clean undershirt over his head then threw on his dirty, green tunic and dark brown jerkin. There was no point putting on all fresh clothes when he himself hadn't even had a chance to bathe yet. 

With his soft suede boots strapped on and light leather armour back in place, he collected his weaponry from the corner of the room. Temporarily shouldering the harness, which held his quiver and knife scabbard. He gave one last longing look at his rumpled bed, then made his way down to the waiting search party. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time he reached the courtyard, the sun had set and a small group of eight, including Tiriadon, had congregated around the main fountain. The captain of Legolas' personal guard looked just as exhausted as the prince himself felt, but greeted him nonetheless with a broad smile. 

“Can't keep me away from the forest today it seems!” He called jovially as Legolas finished buckling up his harness.

“Aye, it would seem so, Tiri,” he replied with a smile of his own. “I'm sorry for bringing you out again, you know I would not unless it was absolutely necessary,” he said apologetically, clasping a firm hand to his friend's shoulder. 

“Think nothing of it, my lord. I know not the reason for our guest's incarceration here, but if Lord Aragorn insists upon it then I will see that the creature is returned.” Tiriadon said gripping the Prince's arm in return. 

Legolas rolled his eyes, “Well, it seems we were victims of our own kindness there. I do hope the miscreant hasn't scarpered and there is some other, more welcome explanation for the lateness of their return. Gollum is known to be a tricky customer.” 

Tiriadon flashed him a small reassuring smile to try and ease the tension the prince's brow. “Let us hope, híren.” 

But it was clear neither was convinced. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The search party were near-silent as they sprang from branch to branch, traversing the canopy and making their steady way towards the first southern clearing. They would pause every once in a while to listen out for the telltale clacking sound of oncoming spiders, but all seemed quiet. Too quiet. 

Legolas landing softly on the bough of an old, gnarled pine and raised his hand to halt the group. 

Tiriadon leapt down from a higher branch to ask, “What is it, my lord?” 

His voice barely more than an exhale of breath, but clear as day to an elf's highly tuned ears. 

“Do you hear that?” Legolas asked, turning to study his captain's face in the gloom. 

“Nay?” he answered, clearing straining to pick up a noise on the light breeze. 

“Exactly,” the prince breathed. “It is deathly still. The moon is veiled in darkness, and there is not a star in the sky. Even the brightness of Earëndil is hidden from us. Something foul approaches, I can feel it.” 

The captain nodded slowly in agreement, his eyes never ceasing in the scanning of their surroundings. “We are not far from the clearing-”

Just then, the faintest of chittering squawks echoed through the forest and the party of nine froze on their respective branches, their sensitive ears twitching in the direction of the skin-crawling sound. 

“Orcs!” Legolas hissed, grabbing his bow.

The elves dispersed in well-practised formation, strategically placing themselves on both sides of the path below them, awaiting the prince's signal. 

Slowly but surely the beasts made their way into sight, scampering along on unsteady feet, and heavily armed. Clearly, they were ready for battle. 

Silently, Legolas nocked an arrow, his eyes fixed on the leader of the grotesque battalion. With an almost imperceptible nod of his head to the group, he loosed the arrow, striking the snub-nosed creature right between the eyes. Seconds later, eight more arrows flew, taking out the front row, and that was the cue to descend. 

Hopping lightly from branch to branch, firing off precision shots as they went, the elves managed to scatter the front of the pack, allowing them to drop down into the confusion. But it wasn't long before the screeching hoard had regrouped. Now on the ground, Tiriadon drew his sword at Legolas' side and flung himself into the fray while the prince stood his ground along with Orondil and two other archers, picking off key targets. 

All around them blades swung, arrows soared, and Orcs fell, but still they kept on coming. The creatures were fierce, their teeth gnashing and their bug-eyes wild with bloodlust. This was no mindless raid, they were on a mission. 

Sensing the need for strategy Legolas yelled, “Disperse!” and immediately the group of elves set off into the forest in all directions, swinging on branches and leaping through the undergrowth, dividing the determined orc force so as to make them easier to pick off. 

Legolas took a westerly direction, reaching up and seizing a thick elm branch and launching himself over the heads of a splinter group of orcs. Landing gracefully at the other side, he fired off his two remaining arrows into the backs of two heads before they'd even had a chance to turn and face him. He then whipped out his lethal, long white knives and began slashing at his enemy with frightful precision. 

All the exhaustion of the three moons guard duty melted away in the thrill of battle. Excitement thrummed in his veins, foul black blood splashed across his face as he cut down the splinter group in moments. 

Rushing forward to the next point of attack he came across Orondil, fighting back-to-back with a young guard, Limhîr, who was not yet two years into his service. As he flew past, Legolas could see the fear in his eyes and moments later he was overwhelmed, orcs piling down on top of him as he fell. 

Legolas turned sharply on his heel, racing back towards the attack and collided blade first with the top of the pile. Though he'd noticed the young elf's fall, Orondil could do nothing to assist. All he could do was drive the orcs he was engaging with backwards into the twisting forest where they were sure to lose their footing, giving Legolas space. 

Stabbing the final orc through the head, Legolas kicked it's body off Limhîr and discovered with some surprise that he was still alive, though clearing badly wounded. With no imminent attacks approaching, Legolas crouched down beside him to assess the damage. 

Limhîr coughed wetly as the prince ran his hands gently up his flanks, discovering a puncture wound between two ribs.  
“My... My lord...” He wheezed clutching Legolas' arm with a bloodied hand.  
“Hush, youngling,” Legolas soothed. “Do not try to speak.” 

He set to work plugging the hole with a torn piece of his tunic, hoping that the internal damage was not so severe as to end his life. Once he'd completed the patch up, he looked into the other elf's ashen face, meeting his pale panicked eyes with a reassuring smile as he stroked his face with the backs of his fingers.  
“Stay with me now, and do not fear, we will get you home. You have fought bravely this night, young one,” Legolas insisted, trying to buoy the elf's failing spirit.

Orondil appeared at his shoulder. “We are driving them back, híren. These are mountain orcs, they cannot cope with the terrain. Tiriadon and his group have them on the back foot to the south.” 

Rising to his feet, Legolas gripped his shoulder, “Stay with Limhîr, keep him talking and lucid.” Then he took off into the trees towards the south, following the sounds of metal on rotting flesh. 

By the time he arrived the remaining orcs were turning tail and fleeing as fast as their stumpy legs would carry them, with a few of the guard giving chase.

“Is anyone in your party injured?” Legolas inquired.

“Nay, my lord, nought worse than scrapes and bruises,” Tiriadon replied.

Legolas nodded briskly. “The brigands got Limhîr. He lives, but barely. We will need to send a few back with him to the Halls.” 

“I will gather the troops,” Tiriadon said.

Not ten minutes later saw the now slightly ruffled search party gathered around a softly gasping Limhîr, who had been propped up against the trunk of a sturdy oak. Legolas once again crouched down beside him to study his condition. Although deathly pale - made more dramatic by the dirt and orc blood streaked across his face and silver-blond hair - the shock of the attack had waned somewhat and a little life was returning to him. 

“I would wager you are not mortally injured, though we must return you to the Halls, young one.” Legolas murmured in a calming voice. 

Limhîr nodded and swallowed hard, his wide moonish eyes glued to the prince's face.  
“Do not fear,” he said again, conscious that the elf needed gentle reassurance at this time, much like an elfling, the like of which he had not long since stopped being. “Anteruon will care for you.”  
He stroked Limhîr's grubby face again and he could have sworn he felt a slight tremor run through the youngling's body. 

Standing and turning his attention to Orondil, he said “Make haste along the path and take two guards in case of further attacks. I would have you inform my father of these developments. It would not be wise to assume the worst is over.”

Bowing his head, Orondil beckoned to two of the closest guards and scooped up the injured elf before the four of them set out into the forest with as much speed as they could manage. 

“My lord,” Tiriadon spoke up, “The clearing is just west of here.”  
“Lead the way, Tiri,” Legolas nodded, already dreading what they would find.

The five remaining elves set off at a light sprint, moving lithely through the brush until they emerged into the quiet clearing. 

It was obvious to see why the prison guards would choose this place to exercise Gollum. While the small pasture was surrounded on all sides by a dense tree line, in the middle stood a lone, ancient oak. Its branches were thick and twisted, providing intrigue and challenge to a climber, but it was far enough away from the other trees that Gollum would not have been able to escape via the canopy. 

Now though, the clearing held no life. The base of the tree where the guards would have sat was smeared in blood, either slain or taken alive it was not clear, but they were no longer around to answer the search parties questions. 

Tiriadon dropped to his knees to touch the blood wet grass and cursed.  
“Still warm,” he spat looking up at Legolas who had joined him at his side. “We were moments away when they were taken.”  
The prince looked up into the tree and saw no movement. “It is possible Gollum had some knowledge of the attack. Perhaps he refused to leave the tree when bidden and the guard had no choice but to wait him out.” 

Just then a shout sounded from the other side of the meadow.  
“My lord! There are tracks!”  
Rounding the trunk Legolas saw there were indeed faint tracks leading down a narrow path towards the south.  
“Well, we have our lead, let us find this creature before he strays too far.”  
And with that, the company set off at a run. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Dread and a mild sense of panic were beginning to grow in Legolas as he cut through the brayer and brambles, the forest growing ever wilder around him.

“Legolas!” His guard captain called behind him as he had done repeatedly for a while now. But the prince could not stop not when Gollum, the creature Aragon had entrusted to them, was missing. Perhaps this was the reason for the unease growing in his mind since that strange dream. 

“Legolas! Stop, please!” Tiriadon finally caught up with him and grabbed his arm, but anger reared up inside him without warning and he wrenched it free. 

“What, Tiri?” Legolas shouted, drawing up to his full height to try and get his fellow warrior to back down, but unfortunately, his old friend would always have a few inches on him, as well as the endless patience to reason with him, despite the prince's infamously fiery temper. 

“My lord, this is folly,” the red-haired elf implored. “The trail went dead miles back as you well know.” 

Tiriadon studied the prince with growing trepidation. Legolas had become like a thing possessed, racing ahead of the pack as though driven by some unseen need.

He soldiered on, “Besides, we have entered the Narrow of the Forest, soon we will come upon Dol Guldur, it is not safe to continue.”

Legolas looked around him properly for the first time in many a mile. The sun was just beginning to rise, but a darkness lied ahead that did not heed the purity of a dawning day.

Legolas turned his stricken face back to his old friend. 

“But we must find him! Ada will be furious, as will Estel, not to mention Lord Elrond-”

“Perhaps, aye,” the captain interrupted. “But they would be more furious if I returned to them without you,” Tiriadon said in a firm voice that brokered no further argument. 

Sensing defeat was inevitable, Legolas let his shoulders sag, the tiredness creeping slowing back into his bones. 

“Aye, I suppose you're right. As always, Tiri,” he conceded with a sly smile, and with that, they began the long journey home. 

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Legolas and his guard arrived back at the Halls, it was mid-morning. Filthy, haggard, and utterly fed up. The prince breathed a sigh of relief when the great gates came into view, but his mind quickly turned to the matter of explained the missing prisoner to Thranduil and he felt a ball of nervousness knot in his stomach. 

He was surprised however when the elf that flew towards them from the Hall's entrance was not a livid elven king, but Legolas' little brother, Barangolas.

They met halfway but before Legolas could even open his mouth, he was pulled into a firm embrace.

“And what have I done to deserve that reception?” The prince asked with a smile.

Barangolas released him but kept hold of his shoulders.

“It's Ada's fault, he's been turning himself inside out with worry. I'm afraid some of it has rubbed off on me.”

Legolas's brow furrowed in concern.

“Not long after your injured guard returned we were attacked from the west.” In answer to his older brothers panicked look, he continued. “The grace of the Valar prevailed, none of us fell. But we are shaken nonetheless by the audacity of the attack.”

Legolas shook this head in dismay. “Where is Ada? I must speak with him. We failed to recapture Gollum.”

“It matters not, tôren.” Barangolas soothed. “Come, I will take you to him. I doubt the old King's heart can take much more waiting,” the youngest prince snickered as the brothers began towards the Halls.

As it transpired, Barangolas had been right. The King had not flown into a rage at first sight of his second-born son but had gathered him up in his arms, burying his nose in Legolas's sunlit – though very dirty – hair. 

This reaction was quite unusual, not to mention concerning. While there was great love between father and son, they rarely expressed it so physically. Thranduil embraced him as though they had been parted for years, even though in reality he'd seen him the previous morning when Legolas had returned from his three-month patrol. 

Not that the prince was complaining. He felt a warm reassurance flow through him that he had not felt since he was an elfling, which went some way to easing his perturbed heart.

“Ada, is everything alright?” He asked, his voice muffled in the shoulder of his father's robes.

After a moment's hesitation, the king released him and gave his son a weak smile. “Aye, ion nín, all is well.” 

But something told Legolas that his father was holding back. 

Thranduil rounded the side of his desk and sat heavily in his chair, giving off the aura of an elf who had had about as much sleep as Legolas.  
Taking a seat opposite, Legolas allowed his body to relax into the plump cushions a moment before straightening up and addressing his father, regaling him with the tale of their journey. 

By the time he had finished, the king was sat forward over his desk, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. 

“I will not lie and say the loss of the creature is of no importance, but none could have envisaged this attack,” he said gravely. 

“We will have to inform Lord Elrond,” a voice piped up from the door. 

Turning Legolas saw his older brother, who had been loitering silently beside his younger.

“Aye, Anteruon is right, can you reach him, Ada?” Legolas asked.  
But Thranduil shook his head. 

“Nay. I have been attempting all morning but the way is too clouded, for both of us I feel.”

Legolas frowned, he was certain now there was something his father was not telling him. 

“Then I will go,” Legolas started, but before he'd even finished his sentence his father cut across him. 

“Nay,” he said forcefully, a flash of pain crossing his face.

“But I am to travel there in a few weeks anyway, what does it matter if I go sooner?” Legolas demanded

“You are not yet rested from your patrol, you must recover before you make the journey across the mountains,” Thranduil insisted. 

“Ada, I have stayed out in the wilds longer than I have been on patrol these last few moons, I have strength enough too-”

“I said no, Legolas, and that is the end of it. I will send someone else in your stead.” With that, his father rose as though to show him the door. 

In desperation, Legolas turned to his brothers, both of whom were studying their father with the same expression of befuddlement. 

“'Las is right, Ada. Someone must inform Imladris and he is the most logical candidate. The mountains will be no less treacherous in a fortnight than they are now, rested or not.” Anteruon said, laying a gentling hand on their unusually skittish king. 

Thranduil looked from son to son, then sagged under the weight of their reasoning. 

“I... I suppose you are right,” he said reluctantly. 

“Then it is settled,” Barangolas pipped up from the doorway, “I will make the preparations, tôren. Your guard should be ready by tomorrow at daybreak.” 

Nodding in thanks, Legolas turned to Anteruon, who was studying him closely. After sharing a meaningful look and a raised eyebrow over the top of Thranduil's bowed head, the elder nodded and exited the chamber quietly, leave Legolas alone with the King. 

Crossing to the side table he poured two generous goblets of Dorwinion, ignoring the earliness of the hour, and carried them over to where his father stood, still as a statue, then wafted the beverage under his nose. As though waking from a dream, the king jolted upright to lock eyes with an amused but concerned Legolas. 

“Come, sit with me Ada, and tell me what this is about. You have never tried to bar me from travelling to Imladris before,” Legolas said, settling himself on the plush divan and patting the space next to him. Sighing as he sat, Thranduil took a large, steadying gulp of crimson wine before levelling a serious look at his son. 

“Nor would I ever want to, ion nín,” he implored. “Not without good reason anyway,” he said cryptically. 

Legolas stiffened in his seat. 

“And you feel that you have such a reason?” He questioned. His father looked at him with unsure eyes, before nodding. 

“I had a dream about you,” he paused to take another sip of wine as though steeling himself. “You were running into the open arms of danger. A dark formless malice took you to its breast and swallowed you up in its shadow.” 

The king gulped hard around a stubborn lump in his throat, and the hand which held his goblet shook slightly as his grip tightened. 

“I tried to run to you but I could not reach you in time and then I could no longer feel your presence in this world. I thought you lost to me!” He choked out, his eyes filling with tears. 

Legolas observed his proud and noble father's now terrified form with horror then set down their goblets on a side table and gripped his shaking hands firmly. 

“I have had this dream also, Ada,” he confessed, though he was unsure that he should be encouraging his father's fretting. Judging by the look he was giving him, Thranduil was just about ready to lock Legolas away in the dungeons and never let him leave Mirkwood again. 

“But it is no cause for fear. I felt in my heart that is was the right direction to go,” he spoke calmly, stroking his thumbs over shaking knuckles. 

“Now you have told me of your vision, it gives me more conviction in my thought that it is not a warning of threat, but a guiding hand from the Valar. I must face whatever evil is in my future, and whatever the outcome, I intend to do just that. I will not shy away from my path,” he said with earnest. 

In truth, he had given little thought to the deeper meaning of his strange and vivid dream, other than to ponder the unusual sense of disquiet which had stuck with him since he woke. But he knew now, in that moment, that he spoke the truth. He felt it from the centre of his very being that it was the right thing to do to travel to Imladris, and face whatever future was his from that place of refuge. 

Thranduil seemed to find some solace in Legolas's words because his face softened a little as he drew his son to him once more. 

“You have such courage, my little leaf,” he murmured. The childish sobriquet, not heard since centuries before his majority, serving to break the tension but also reveal the true gravity of the king's unease at this parting. 

The pair finished their wine in silence, then Legolas rose to take himself off to his chambers to rest as much as he could before his journey. As he reached the door a thought crossed his mind.  
“How fairs the young guard, Limhîr?” He asked.

The king gave his first genuinely joyous smile then, as he said, “He is well, nothing ails him that is beyond the skill of our Anteruon.”  
“Good,” Legolas smiled in return, “That is good to hear. He is brave for one so young.”  
“You should mind yourself there, my son,” the king said with an amused raising of his brow at Legolas' quizzical look. “I hear he is quite taken with his saviour prince.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Once he had bathed – which took some time and much water considering he had yet to wash away the dirt from his patrol – he climbed gratefully back into his bed and, for the first time in a while, he let his mind wander to the subject of his lovers. 

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy thinking of them, quite the opposite, but at times he had to refrain from indulging in such thoughts as he would become morose and heart-sick through missing them. It was a trick they had all learn over the centuries, that sometimes it was best to leave those musing behind when on duty, and to save them instead for the quiet moments like this one. 

His love for them was forever in his heart, but now he allowed it to flood forth and fill his body with warmth and longing. In just less than a moon's time he would be reunited with his beloved Elladan and Elrohir, but it wasn't enough, he needed them now, and the yearning in his heart would not quieten until he felt them. 

Tentatively he reached out, closing his eyes and letting his mind travel over forest, mountain, and river to brush against the consciousnesses of his lovers. Just a light touch, nothing more, not enough to distract if they were engaged in some kind of battle, but enough to say he was there. 

He waited with bated breath for a reply. They had perfected the art of farspeaking many centuries ago but only used it when they really needed to, when there was no danger of diverting attention from a life or death altercation. 

_Anor nín? What is wrong?_

__

__

Nothing, rohir nín. I just needed to hear your voices.

_We are here 'Las, both of us._

Elladan replied. 

_I miss you both so terribly._

__

__

_Aye, and we miss you, 'Las. But it will not be long before we are together again._

The comfortingly lyrically tones of Elladan's voice soothed his aching soul. 

_And then we will be free to ravish you to our heart's content._

Elrohir said, and Legolas could almost see his cheeky grin.

_I cannot wait, gwenyn nín_

He decided then not to tell then about the moving forward of his visit. _'Let it be a surprise'_ he thought to himself.

_You sound tired, melethron._

__

__

I am, 'Roh. So very tired.

Then sleep, anor nín. Rest, and dream of us as we dream of you. 

_I love you both._

Legolas could feel himself drifting off as the reply can back in a beautiful harmony of two voices.

_We love you too. Always._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiren - My Lord  
Orondil – Tree Friend  
Lîmhir – Sparkling River  
Gwenyn Nín - My Twins  
Rohir Nín - My Knight  
Anor Nín - My Sun


	2. The Strings of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas arrives in Rivendell eager to see his lovers again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to update, but it's not always easy to write and edit when you're juggling work, home, and a family!
> 
> Anyway, I leave you with a nice chunky 6000-word chapter in the hopes you'll forgive me and enjoy the boys continuing adventures! Fingers crossed the next update will come along a bit quicker.
> 
> Once again, thank you to [Minuial_Nuwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuial_Nuwing) for letting me play in her world!
> 
> As always, feedback is much appreciated. I also have [Tumblr ](https://panthaprincess.tumblr.com/) if anyone wishes to PM me.

_~Imladris 3018 III~_

As they crested the top of the valley, Legolas felt his heart swell. The sweet, fresh scent of Imladris was carried over to him on the breeze, comforting his travel-weary mind. Arriving here always felt like coming home - just as returning to Mirkwood did - for this was where his heart lied, in the safekeeping of his lover's hands.

While the limerence of their youth had long since transformed into a contended familiarity and an unwavering, unconditional love, their passion still burned as brightly as it had on the night they had taken those first tentative steps.

Legolas could scarcely envision a time when he would not feel that juvenile thrill of excitement at seeing the twins. Although their lovers bond meant they were never truly apart – even when physically they were many miles away – nothing would beat falling into their loving embrace and feeling whole again.

He patted his mount's neck affectionately as it picked its way down the narrow uneven path.

“Good to be back?” Tiriadon asked, bringing his own horse up alongside Legolas's.

The prince smiled warmly. “You have no idea, Tiri,” he said.

The captain laughed. “Your giddy face goes some way to expressing it,” he said kindly as Legolas ducked his head with a sheepish smile.

“I'm only teasing, híren. It's nice to see you glowing again.”  
  


Legolas could barely contain himself as they crossed the bridge, waving jovially to the sentries and watching them dart about alerting others of the company’s arrival.

Legolas felt a snag of guilt, belatedly thinking that perhaps they should have sent out a rider to inform them of their imminent descent upon the hidden vale, but much to his surprise there was already someone there to greet them in the courtyard at the foot of the main stairs. 

“Mae govannen, Legolas,” Erestor said warmly as the prince dismounted. The elf was dressed as he always was, in long obsidian robes which complimented both his frame and his colouring.

“Mae govannen, híren,” Legolas replied dipping into a low formal bow before being pulled into a tight embrace.

“Surely, we can dispense with the formalities after all these centuries, young one?” The chief-advisor laughed, but as he pulled back, Legolas noted with some concern that his kindly expression was warring with a tightness around his bright indigo eyes. As though something deeply troubled him but he was valiantly hiding it from the prince.

“I would never be so bold as to presume,” said Legolas, but gave Erestor a cheeky wink all the same. “I apologise for materialising without forewarning, I know that you were not expecting us for another fortnight at least.”

Erestor studied him for a short moment, as though choosing his words carefully.

“Your early arrival is not entirely unexpected, princeling.”

In answer to Legolas' questioning look, he merely raised a hand and stated, “There is much to discuss, but all in good time. For now, you must rest and bathe after your long journey.”  
  


Noticing that both the horses and his guard had been taken care of during their conversation, Legolas ascended the stairs with Erestor, all the while looking around for signs of his lovers. He was sincerely hoping he could spring a rare surprise on them.

As though sensing his intention Erestor laid a gentle hand on his arm to soften the blow of his words.

“I'm afraid they are not here, Legolas. They were sent out on an errand two weeks or more past and have yet to return.”

Legolas felt a small rush of panic pass through him but Erestor squeezed his shoulder firmly, not allowing him to go down that road. “They will be back, by tomorrow we suspect. You will not have long to wait.”

The cryptic nature of his friend's words only served to add fuel to the fire of his unease which had been smouldering in Legolas since his fey dream.

Once again Erestor demonstrated his uncanny ability to know exactly what was happening in the prince's mind.

“Aye, your senses do not lie to you, young one, something is indeed afoot. But as I said, now is not the time to discuss such matters. Lord Elrond is currently engaged in a most pressing issue in the Healing Halls, but he will attend you this evening,” he said, his eyes seeming to burrow into Legolas' very soul with their intensity.

“Very well, híren. I trust your judgement, and you are quite right, there is no matter so important that it would distract me from a bath,” Legolas chortled, breaking the strange air that had settled over them.

Erestor laughed lightly in reply. “I trust you can find your way to your chambers by now, I will have a little food sent to you in case you waste away before the evening.”

And with that, the two parted ways.

~~~~~~~~~~  
  
“Does he know anything?” Glorfindel demanded as soon as Erestor had set foot across the threshold of the library. He looked up to see his lover staring out of the window at the place where the councillor had been speaking with Legolas.

“Nay, nothing of the specifics anyway. But he is not blind, nor dim.”

Erestor came to stand beside the golden-haired warrior and slipped an arm around his waist, reassuring himself of his beloved's presence as well as offering comfort.

“He senses the unease in the valley and the continued darkening of the world, of that I have no doubt. He is quite in tune with the strings of fate, that youngling. He felt the pull to come here and he did not resist.”

“But to what end?” Glorfindel asked, dismay colouring is normally placid voice.

“None can say, melethron, but I agree with Elrond; his coming to us on this occasion is more than a mere restful furlough, and I believe Legolas suspects that also.”

Glorfindel circled his arms around his lover’s waist and pulled him in close, feeling reassured when deceptively strong arms circled his in return and slid up his back to his shoulder blades.

“Alas, how I wish the dark days to come were already behind us. I would not see our beloved young triad torn asunder by war,” he whispered nuzzling his nose into Erestor's soft, ebony hair.

“You feel that will be the case?” He asked from his place against Glorfindel's neck.

“Aye, 'tis possible, as it is possible for us all.” As he said that the lovers simultaneously tighten their grip on each other, as though they could halt any separation with force of will alone.

“Let us take each day as it comes, hmm? No matter the future we face, all I ask is that all those who are borrowed for this cause are returned unharmed,” Erestor said, as though praying aloud to any of the Valar who may be listening.

He placed a soft kiss over Glorfindel's pulse point, then pulled back and pressed a similarly chaste kiss to his plush lips.

_I love you, melethron._

_As I love you, meldanya._

~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas arrived at the twins' chambers and heaved a great sigh of relief. Although he was not always present here, these rooms – like his own quarters in Mirkwood – belonged as much to him as they did them.

All around there were touches of his presence, left to gather and embed in the fabric of the place over the many centuries they had been together. His spare bow was propped in the corner, tokens of Mirkwood lay here and there, and all around the colours of the woodland realm mingled pleasingly with the blues and greys of Imladris. From the mix of their clothes in the wardrobe to the green and blue blankets by the fire, the whole room sang with a love and unity that made his heart both flutter and ache with joy.

Entering the bedroom, he discovered that his travel bags had already been placed at the foot of the wide bed. As much as he wanted to crawl amongst the black silken sheets and be surrounded by the smell of Elladan and Elrohir, he forced himself through to the bathing chamber. The sooner he soaked away the dirt of his journey and the troubles of his mind, the sooner he could rest in preparation for what he felt maybe a long evening.

An hour later saw the prince of Mirkwood freshly washed and smelling of evergreens thanks to the tub of his favourite, butter-thick oil soap that sat in a large earthenware container on the side of the tub.

Scrubbing his damp hair with a towel, Legolas sat down on the edge of the bed in nought but fresh leggings, wishing there was someone here to brush and braid his hair. Feeling the softness of the mattress under is backside, the prince settled for little more than a quick untangling of his golden tresses with his fingers. He would no doubt awake with a head resembling a bird’s nest, but he found he cared little as he relaxed back onto the pillows and pulled the covers over himself.

Immediately, he felt a wave of delicious scent engulf him and when he turned his head to bury his nose in the plump pillows, inhaling deeply, it was almost as though his lovers were there beside him. He could picture them, curled around him, Elladan manipulating one of his gold nipple rings with teeth and tongue, while Elrohir slid sensuously down his body to unlace his snug leggings.

Legolas allowed his hands to imitate the actions of his imaginary lovers, one hand pulling at the ring through his left nipple, the other ghosting over the toned muscles of his chest then down his flat, twitching stomach to disappear inside his leggings.

Taking himself in hand, it only took a moment to bring himself to full hardness, breathing deeply and imagining the sweet scent came not from linens, but from the crook of Elrohir's neck or the soft place where Elladan's thigh met his groin. Slicking his shaft with his own fluids, he squeezed tightly and began to pump his hand, slow to start then quickly gaining speed.

Gasping, the heady aroma filled his lungs, sparking lewd images in his mind of the triad's erotic play. But the scene that made fire flare in his blood was the moment when the twins’ soul would fuse, the silvery glowing light of their union; when they were truly able to give their whole soul to him. They would gather him up in synchronised arms and cradle him against them, protecting him in the circle of their loving light until the pleasure was so intents that Legolas thought he might just die. What would followed was the most wondrous release and a feeling of such completeness he knew he would never be as happy as he was in their arms.

Dragged from his daydream by the sudden rush of climax, Legolas arched sharply off the bed, spilling himself into his leggings, before finally succumbing to sleep, all thoughts of the expected food tray and difficult conversations gone from his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas awoke to the thudding closure of the main door in the living room and stiffened as he heard footsteps approaching the bed-chamber door. They were somewhat familiar, but they certainly did not belong to Elladan or Elrohir. 

There was a light tapping on the chamber door and before Legolas could call out the dark head of Lord Elrond poked its way into the room. The lord of Imladris smiled broadly as he took in the prince's rumpled form sat up in the bed.

“Ah, so this is where you have been hiding,” he chuckled.

“I... I'm sorry híren I don't...” Legolas mumbled as he rubbed his fist across his eyes. Elrond chuckled again at the sight. The Mirkwood prince looked, for all the world, like a sleepy little elfling rudely awoken from an afternoon nap.

“I'm afraid you slept through dinner, young one, but fear not, I come bearing gifts, as well as the tray I nearly stepped in outside your door. Dress yourself, I will await you in the front room,” he said before disappearing back through the doorway.

Now that he was feeling more refreshed, Legolas was seriously regretting falling asleep with not only unbrushed hair, but also in sticky, seed splattered leggings.

He gingerly peeled the offending item away from his skin, hissing as the dried fluid pulled at his tender flesh. After a quick wipe down in the bathing chamber he snagged a pair for the twins soft leather leggings and one of his own loose tunics from the wardrobe, slipping them on with haste, conscious of the Peredhel lord, and the tray of food, waiting for him in the main room. Taking a comb from the dresser, he thought it best to try and tackle his mess of locks with some company.

When he pushed open the door he felt the welcoming warmth of a roaring fire and saw that Elrond had taken up the wide seat in from of it, so often favoured by the twins.

As Legolas approached the lord rose and greeted him with a firm embrace which the prince gratefully returned.

“It is good to see you back in Imladris,” he smiled softly, but Legolas could see that same tightness around the eyes that he'd noted in Erestor.

“It is good to be back,” he replied.

“Indeed,” Elrond said, sitting himself back down on the love seat. “Although it does appear that the twins chamber has be beset by a colony of bats, judging by the state of your locks,” he said with a smirk.

Legolas flushed slightly, cursing himself again for failing to attend to proper grooming.

“It seems that in my eagerness for rest, I neglected to brush my hair while it was still damp,” he said with a shrug, choosing to omit the part about him being more interested in self-pleasure to the thought of the lord's sons than in hair care. But somehow, he thought Elrond probably knew that anyway.

“Come and sit beside me, young one. I should like to brush and braid you, if you would permit it.”

At Legolas' startled look, Elrond gave a shrug of his own.

“It has been many years since I have had the opportunity, there is something relaxing in the grooming of others, don't you agree? And that is something which I could use at this moment.”

“Of course, híren. Thank you,” he said and without a moment’s hesitation more, Legolas sat himself close beside his lovers' father and handed him the comb before turning his back.

Elrond said nothing for a while, and they both merely enjoyed the comfortable silence and the feeling of familial closeness as sunlit tresses were smoothed of their snarls and tangles.

“You know, don't you, Legolas, that I care for you very deeply. That I have, in fact, come to think of you as my own.” Elrond said quietly, the love and sincerity evident in his voice.

It took Legolas a moment to speak, the words moving him quite profoundly. Finally, he managed a cough, thanking the stars that he was facing away as he croaked out.

“To hear you said that means an awful lot, my lord, for I too have come to think of you as a father, as well as a friend.”

“Well aren't we lucky then, to have such a family to protect us,” Elrond said and. Though his voice was even he fought back the overwhelming urge to wrap Legolas in his arms and guard him from whatever evil may lie in his future.

Silence fell again while he braided Legolas' hair in a loose plait, perfect for relaxation and further sleep. 

“There now, it looks like someone owns you again,” he said, his eyes soft grey eyes twinkling in the firelight. “Now you must eat, and I, I'm afraid, must talk. There is much that has happened in these past few moons that you should know about, and I would have your silence until I am through, so busy your mouth with food.”

So Legolas did as he was bidden, sitting on the floor beside the fire and eating his fill while Lord Elrond informed him of the young master Frodo and the discovering of the Ring of Power; the Halflings' intrepid journey through the wilds; the attack at Weathertop and the riding out of the bravest and most skilled of the Imdalrian forces against the Nazgûl - Glorfindel and his beloved twins amongst them; and the demanding and intricate healing that had taken place that very afternoon where Elrond had removed a shard of Morgul blade from the hobbit's shoulder.

“He is expected to awaken some time tomorrow, and with his recovery will come a meeting of some importance. Fate is drawing to Imladris key members of all free races. It was fate, in fact, that brought you to us a fortnight early,” he said with a small smile.

“Ah, so that is why I was expected by Erestor,” Legolas interjected for the first time in nearly an hour.

“Quite,” Elrond said, then his face became sombre again. “I would have you attend this council, Legolas, as a representative of your realm, for it is there we must decide how best to deal with this most evil of objects.”

Legolas nodded gravely, “Then there is something you must know, híren. The creature Gollum, whom Estel entrusted to us, escaped during an attack on our lands and Halls. We did all that we could to find him but...” The prince bowed his head in shame, pushing away the plate of sweet rolls he's been feasting on, his self-deprecation stealing his appetite.

“Do not fret, 'Las. Mayhaps all is as it should be. I think it is possible that Gollum was meant to escape your care, bringing you here in time for the council, though we may never know. But self-flagellating is of no use to anyone, there is nought that could have been done.”

Eased by the lord's understanding words Legolas allowed himself to look back at Elrond and found himself under the same level of scrutiny that Erestor had subjected him to. Twilight coloured eyes reached down into the depths of his soul to examine what lay there, and what he found seemed to please him as he offered Legolas a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder.

“I suggest that you finished your feast-for-one then take yourself back to your bed. I feel strongly that the twins shall return on the morrow and I doubt you will get much sleep with them around,”

Elrond laughed good-naturedly as Legolas flushed from collarbone to ear tips. Still, it seemed, he was not yet at an age where he had no need for blushing, if indeed he would ever be.

“Thank you, híren. I will heed your advice,” the prince chuckled weakly, raising a hand in farewell as Elrond took his leave.

~~~~~~~~~~

The dawn, which broke warm and clear, saw Legolas managing to rouse himself at the correct time of day and hauled himself out of bed. There was little point lounging around and the bed seemed frightfully lonely with only him to fill it.

He finished dressing just as the breakfast bell was sounded and made his way to the feasting hall, taking in the sights and sounds of Imladris as he wandered.

Entering the hall itself however, the princes was slightly taken aback by the sheer variety of guests that graced the various tables. There were the usual elven residents of course, but there also sat a small group of dwarves, all looking distinctly uneasy to be surrounded by so many fair folk. Legolas believed he recognised one them as part of the group that the Mirkwood guard had crossed paths with a few decades ago, though he looked a lot older. His name, the prince was unsure of, and he hadn’t the inclination to find out, so he passed them by without a backwards glance.

But the strangest sight by far was the small contingent of halflings that sat in the corner, eating from what appeared to be a collection of side tables that had been pushed together to form a hobbit-sized dining area. Amongst them sat Bilbo Baggins, and Legolas could not resist a greeting.

“Master Bilbo, are you quite sure there's not a drop of elvish blood in you? You appear younger every time I see you,” Legolas smiled down at him, touching his shoulder gently.

“Prince Legolas! 'Tis wonderful to see you again,” the hobbit smiled toothily.

“And I see you have brought guests. Welcome young ones,” Legolas said warmly to the three other Shire-folk who were all staring wide-eyed up at the prince, their food forgotten, save one who was still actively chewing what looked like a rather large mouthful.

After garnering little more response than stunned silence, Legolas bowed slightly, holding in a laugh. “I will leave you to your breakfast, Sirs,” he said, then parted after giving Bilbo's shoulder one last squeeze.

As he walked away, he heard Bilbo hiss to the others, “That is the Elvenking's son!” Which was followed by much-heated discussion, causing Legolas to snort with laughter, startling a passing kitchen maid so much she nearly dropped the oatmeal she was serving.

Offering a quick apologie to the terrified elleth, Legolas weaved his way through the hall and finally came to the high table, which usually sat the Lords and Ladies, as well as visiting dignitaries. As he approached Aragorn wiped his mouth on a napkin then sprang up to embrace him firmly.

“Mae govannen, Legolas!” He said.

“Mae govannen, Estel,” Legolas replied warmly, then sat down next to his friend, opposite Glorfindel, whom he reached across to greet.

“Mae govannen, híren,” he said, grasping the blond's arm in a traditional warrior’s clasp. “My apologies for missing the evening meal, I'm afraid I was quite exhausted.”

Glorfindel chuckled lightly, “And that's without the twins present!”

Legolas managed to confine his blush to just the top of his ears.

“When do you think they will return?” He asked, pointedly ignoring the lewd reference.

“'Tis hard to say. Before dawn tomorrow I would wager, but maybe even as early as just after the nooning,” Glorfindel said with a shrug.

“Perhaps you would care to join me on the practice field later, let off a little steam before the arduous diplomatic matters of the coming days,” he asked.

“There's nothing wrong with a little diplomacy,” Erestor muttered, his eyes focused on a lengthy missive while he picked at a plate for fruit.

“Certainly not, my love,” Glorfindel cooed, pressing a sound kiss to his bond mate's cheek.

Legolas giggled and replied, “Aye, I would enjoy that thoroughly. 'Twill stop me from missing the twins.”

“Speaking of the pining of lovers, how is your father?” Glorfindel asked, causing Erestor to perk up and pay closer attention.

“Missing you both terribly, but he copes. I have letters to give you and orders to convey his undying affections for you both,” the prince said with a sad smile.

He knew the pain his father went through during his long separations from Glorfindel and Erestor.

The elves reached out and gripped each of Legolas's hands in thanks, their eyes misty with longing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Elladan and Elrohir could hear the music and laughter coming from the Hall of Fire even as crossed the bridge into Imladris. It seemed a jarring contrast to the task they had been away to complete.

_Imladris is thriving in our absence, tôren._

Elrohir's voice floated through the elder twin’s mind as the rode directly to the stables to refresh their tired mounts.

_Aye, it appears so, 'Roh. It also appears that we have been spotted._

Seeing the nod towards the gardens, Elrohir saw a lone figure striding towards them.

“He will find us in the stables no doubt,” the younger twin said, dismounting and leading his sweat-soaked stallion into the covered shelter, and sure enough, moments later Aragorn stepped into the horse quarters.

“Can he not give us a moments peace, el nín? He is forever ghosting our steps- oh Estel, I had not seen you there, dear brother!” Elrohir jested. Smirking over his shoulder as he stowed his saddle.

“Most amusing, 'Rohir. Truly I can barely contain my laughter,” Aragorn deadpanned with an arched eyebrow that was clearly learned from Elrond.

Elladan pulled his foster brother into an embrace before whispering conspiratorially, “Ignore him, tôren, he's just jealous of your handsome beard and the dashing way you sport your leggings,” which caused Aragorn to bark out a laugh.

“Sounds like you're projecting a little there, el nín,” Elrohir said haughtily, then he too grasped the ranger in a strong hug.

Aragorn shook his head, ever amused at the twins' banter, then his face sobered as he asked, “What news then? Any sign of the wraiths?”  
  


Matching his serious tone, Elladan answered, “Nay, neither hide nor hair. The horses we found washed up eight leagues from here, but the riders were gone.”  
  


“We do not think it likely they’re dead, merely scattered and in need of regrouping which will not take them long,” Elrohir continued.

“I would say you are quite correct,” Aragorn nodded gravely.

“How fairs the halfling?” Elladan asked, wincing slightly as though he was not convinced he wished to know the answer.

“Hobbits are made of stern stuff it seems. He awoke at mid-morning and this evening he dances with his fellow folk in the Hall of Fire,” Aragorn answer with an amused shake of his head.

“Well isn't that a pleasant surprise, I thought for sure the creature was done for,” Elladan rejoiced, giving his horse a final look over before shutting he stable door and turning to find Aragorn grinning brightly from ear to ear.

“What?” He demanded suspiciously, coming to stand next to his twin who also had his eyes narrowed at their foster brother.

“I have another pleasant surprise for you,” he said, excitement lacing his voice.

Twin ebony dark eyebrows arched in silent questioning.

“Legolas is here,” Aragon said then laughed as they both gasped “ _'Las!_ ” in stereo, rushing forward towards the door.

“Ah ah ah...” Aragorn tutted, a hand on each firm chest to stop them from leaving.

“He is quite a bit more than passing fair this night. It will do you no good to attend him covered in dust, sweat, and horsehair,” he said with a sternness belied by the amusement in his eyes.

“Oh, I don't know... Our Legolas quite enjoys a dirty elf,” Elrohir smirked.

“ _Tôren!_ ” Elladan chided, slapping his wayward brother on the shoulder, but holding back a smirk of his own.

“To the bathing pools with both of you!” Said Aragorn, hastening them along with a hand on their backs. “I will have fresh clothing brought to you,” he called as the twins scurried down the hill, as excited as elflings on their Begetting Day.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Peredhel twins had never washed more quickly in all their long lives, standing face to face and scrubbing each other to speed up the process.

“I wonder why he has arrived early?” Elladan queried aloud before plunging under the water to rinse the suds from his long, midnight-dark hair.

“I neither know nor care, 'Dan,” Elrohir mused when his brother resurfaced, already scrambling out of the pool and ringing out his own locks. “I merely want to gather him up in our arms and embed my nose behind his ear. His scent is always sweetest there,” he murmured, closing his eye for a brief moment, lost in the memories of centuries past.

Elladan wrapped a towel around his brother's waist and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I couldn't agree more, rohir nín,” he whispered, then the two returned to the drying room to dress and braid.

~~~~~~~~~~

The scene that greeted the pair as they entered the Hall of Fire was not one that was usual for a feasting evening in Imladris. The dining hall had been forsaken and instead, the long tables lined one side of the room, laden with snacks to tempt the attendees into an informal nibble between bouts of merriment. The infectious energy of the celebrating hobbits was palpable, and the elves seemed much more carefree then they normally would when hosting foreigners.

The twins scanned the room eagerly for their lover and soon spotted him before the fire speaking animatedly with Glorfindel and Mithrandir.

_Gods, look at him, 'Roh._

_Aye, tôren, Estel was right. Our lover looks most exquisite this night._

Over a grey undershirt, Legolas wore a powder-blue, silken tunic, embroidered richly in sliver thread with oak leaves and six-pointed stars; the symbols of Mirkwood and Imladris. His shapely legs were clad in soft dark blue leggings and around his arm, he wore the mithril cuff they’d given him over 800 years ago. His sunlit hair- pulled away from his face with small side plaits - seemed to sparkle in the light of the fire, the lapis lazuli and mithril beads threaded through the braids glinting as he threw his head back in laughter.

The beautiful peal of sound carried across the Hall and caused twin smiles to broaden as they began to pick their way through the crowd. As they approached, they saw the old grey wizard lean forward to mutter in Legolas' ear, his kindly, twinkling eyes fixed on the twins.

Suddenly, Legolas turned, their eyes met, and for a moment all the world fell away, leaving only love-struck elves to regard each other in peace after many moons of separation. Heedless of the many onlookers, the twins and Legolas rushed forward in unison, meeting in a three-way embrace their arms winding around each other as foreheads pressed together.

“Anor nín,” Elladan and Elrohir chorused in a lover’s sigh.

“Gwenyn nín,” Legolas replied before capturing each set of lips in a lingering kiss.

The three stood close to each other for a long moment, lost in a familiar closeness that was highlighted by light touches and chaste kisses until the was a distinct clearing of a throat behind Legolas's back.

“I think perhaps you should greet your family also,” Legolas whispered seriously, though he said it with a barely repressed smile.

Elladan scrunched his nose in a mock expression of resignation, then turn Legolas to stand between them, each twin clasping one of his hands as they made their way over to where Elrond, Arwen, and the rest of the household stood.

“'Tis a joy to see you back, my sons,” Elrond said earnestly, his grey eyes shining with happiness and relief.

Elladan and Elrohir moved to embrace their father and sister but kept their strong hands firmly clasped around Legolas's fingers, not allowing him to step back to give the reuniting family space.

“Right!” Glorfindel chimed in cheerfully, “Time for another plate of food, ere the hobbits finish it all. One would swear those creatures had hollow legs...” He muttered more to himself than anyone else.

The evening raged one far longer than it probably should have, each attendee knowing in their own way, however subconsciously, that nights like these would soon become few and far between. The twins sat and talked at length with Glorfindel about their scouting for the Wraiths while Legolas was content to merely listen, sat between them luxuriating in all the subtle touches. He snuggled in tight to Elladan's side, the older twin's arm around his waist while Elrohir took the shoulders, reaching up to play with his hair and brush the tips of his ears.

Eventually, however, the yearning grew too great for them all and while the night seemed yet young for the revellers, the time had come for the triad to retire. Bidding those around them a pleasant evening they rose to exit the hall.

As they passed the still plentiful spread, Elrohir gazed at it longing, realising for the first time how hungry he was. Before he could voice his want for sustenance however, a light touch on his arm made him turn, causing the others to pull up short.

The young maiden Legolas had surprised at breakfast stood blushing before the imposing figure of the elf-knight, blushing to the tips of her ears.

“I have had a tray sent to your chambers, híren. I thought you might be hungry after your journey,” she said, so quietly Elladan and Legolas could barely make her out, but Elrohir heard her loud and clear.

Much to the surprise of those in the vicinity, not to mention the elleth herself, Elrohir dropped Legolas's hand and wrapped his arms tightly around her then planted a smacking kiss to her cheek.

“You, my dear, have just become my favourite elf in all of Arda,” he said, his dashing grin only serving to heighten the gently quaking maid's blush. Giving her a final squeeze, he trotted back to his quietly snickering lovers.

“You're a heartbreaker 'Roh. You truly are,” Legolas laughed, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Aye, perhaps, but as long as it's not your heart I'm breaking, I'm sure I'll still rest easy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Elladan groaned loudly as he slumped down in the wide chair before the crackling fire, at last feeling the full extent of his exhaustion. Elrohir laid himself out on the fur-covered floor, giving a pained moan of his own.

“I think I'm getting old, you know,” he mused half-heartedly, staring down at his ageless body as though it were betraying him.

  
Legolas laughed as he brought the tray - laden with cold meats, savoury breads, and creamy cheeses - over to the fire from where it had been left on the side table. “Even if that were possible, 'Roh, which it isn't, at least you have a spry young lover to keep you active in your dotage,” he smirked at the younger twin as he set the tray down before the hearth.

“We may well be old one day 'Las,” Elrohir said without much thought, then immediately regretted it due to the sharp look his brother gave him and the flash of pained confusion which darkened Legolas's face.

Just as he was about to straighten up and question the statement, Elladan took the opportunity for distraction and spring forward like a mountain cat to capture his lover around his bent waist and pull him back into his lap on the chair.

“Very poor reflexes for one so young,” he murmured against Legolas's ear while the prince squirmed to try and right himself.

“'Dan, let me up!” Legolas whined but only succeeded in grinding his backside against Elladan's crotch, which was becoming steadily more interested in proceedings.

“Hmm, what do you think, tôren? Should I let this insolent youngling escape?” He asked, affecting a superior tone, though his eyes were shining wickedly, an expression mirrored by his brother.

“Nay, 'Dan, I think you should keep him right where he is,” the elf-knight grinned teasingly, and Legolas gulped then went limp as the older twin beset his neck with a series of wet kisses and gentle nips.

There was no hope for him when the two of them joined forces against him.

“I am being ganged up on,” Legolas gasped, distracted from his barely-there ire by the sensation of a hot mouth on his neck.

The harsh scraping of teeth over flesh which sent a spike of heat to his groin, was quickly soothed by an insistent tongue that helped to spread the warmth through his body.

“Aye, you are,” Elrohir answered plainly as he began to crawl towards the pair in the love seat, sensual and slinking like a creature of the night.

“But no one said this was a democracy, anor nín.”

Sitting back on his heels the younger twin slid his hands up Legolas's thighs that were spread wide over Elladan's legs to toy with the lacing of his leggings.

“And now you are at our mercy,” he breathed, looking up at the prince with lust darkened eyes.

Legolas' breathing hitched in his throat as he looked down at the erotic vision in front of him.

Although he was quite enjoying his being held captive, he still felt a frisson of unease at yielding so completely, especially when both of the twins were his dominators.

In a last-ditch attempt at negotiation, he said, “I thought you said you were hungry?”

A dark and lascivious grin spread across Elrohir's face.

“Oh I am,” he purred, “For wood-elf.”


	3. Lovers Entwined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following directly on from Chapter 2, our beloved triad reaffirm their love in the most intimate way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a loooong time since I last updated, so for that I am sorry. But here we are with Chapter 3! And it's a steamy one! Hopefully, you can remember what happened in the last chapter.... 
> 
> I always want to make promises about when the next update will come, but at this point, I know it's pointless... But I do now have a home office to write in! So fingers crossed! 
> 
> As always, I am incredibly grateful for any feedback and thoughts you may have!
> 
> All credit for the fanwork this fanwork is based on -[Princes Three Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2989)\- goes to the marvellous [Minuial_Nuwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuial_Nuwing), in whose sea of talent I merely paddle in :)
> 
> Feel free the DM me on the wasteland the is Tumblr: [Pantha Princess](https://panthaprincess.tumblr.com/l) or add me on discord: PanthaPrincess#0938
> 
> I'm always up for a chat as I am essentially in lockdown again! Go on, don't be shy... ;)

Legolas whined softly in the back of his throat as he was assaulted by the twin sensations of Elladan suckling on the tip of his sensitive ear and Elrohir nuzzling at the bulge in his breeches.

The arms around his waist tightened as he attempted to buck into the mouth blowing hot air through the fabric.

“Hold still, youngling, or we will be forced to subdue you in other ways,” Elladan said, then clamped his mouth down on the join between neck and shoulder, biting down hard and sucking to bring the blood to the surface.

Legolas wailed, and while he was distracted, Elrohir unlaced his leggings and pried them open to reveal the prince's already weeping erection.

“I must say, I had not expected such play to be part of our first reunion coupling.” Legolas panted, pressing back against Elladan's hard shaft which sat snugly against his bottom.

Breaking out of character Elrohir looked up into the wood-elf's eyes searchingly.

“Does it displease you, melethron?” He asked, an unmistakable hint of worry in his tone.

Legolas lifted his hand to the younger twin’s cheek and brushed it with the pad of his thumb. “Nay,” he said pointedly.

Elrohir studied him for a moment, then, seemingly satisfied, rose up to press a tender kiss to his lovers' lips.

“Then relax and enjoy, anor nín. We seek only to love you. Always.”

When Legolas nodded his assent, he moved to the side slightly and pressed a similar kiss to his brother's mouth. “Soothe him, el nín, while I have my snack.”

Elladan chuckled and snuck his hand under Legolas' tunic to rub calming circles against the twitching muscles of his stomach, watching as his twin descended back down their lover's body. Settling back onto his heels again Elrohir stripped the prince of his leggings then nestled himself between his brothers slightly parted legs so as to get closer to Legolas' groin.

While the older twin busied himself with the removing Legolas' tunic and lavishing attention on his neck and ears, Elrohir took the rigid length before his face reverently in his hand. Brushing the head lightly with his thumb, he spread the fluid already collecting there down his lover’s shaft then leant in to trace the same path with his tongue.

The anticipation for what was to come after so many months apart had Legolas shifting restlessly in Elladan's lap and reaching out to tangle his shaking fingers in Elrohir's silken hair. His arms had barely begun to move, however, when the elder twin caught them in a firm grip, running his hands down finely muscled limbs to place Legolas' hands definitively on his own knees, forcing him to spread his legs even further.

The prince gave a mewl of mild distress at the exposure, feeling at once vulnerable but wildly aroused by his lovers' control. He rested his head back against Elladan's shoulder and buried his flushing face into his neck, whimpering between the light pecking kisses he placed on the thrumming pulse there.

Below, Elrohir caught his brother's eye.

_How is this delectable creature ours?_

_I do not know, rohir nín, but let us savour him._

With that, the elf-knight ceased his teasing, took the prince into his mouth and began the slow suck and slid that would take his lover all the way to the edge and over.

Elladan stroked and coddled the trembling elf in his arms, toying with both golden nipple rings, and pressing warm kisses to any scrap of skin he could reach. Raising his head to nibble a tender earlobe he whispered, “Watch him, 'Las. Watch him love you,” encouraging Legolas to stare down at his own darkly flushed length appearing and disappearing between delightfully stretched lips.

Sensing Legolas' eyes on him, Elrohir looked up into the bottomless depths of emerald and allowed his mind to touch that of his younger lover.

_Spill for me, anor nín. I want to taste you._

That was all it took to cause the tightly coiled tension in the pit of Legolas' stomach to unfurl explosively, leading him to arch against Elladan's chest and spend himself into the wanton mouth below. Bright lights flashed before his eyes as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, then faded slowly to inky blackness.

Legolas did not know how long it took for him to come back to his senses but by the time he did, he found that he was wrapped in a soft throw and ensconced tightly between his lovers in the wide armchair while they peppered kisses over his tear-streaked face.

“I... I'm...” He wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to say but his voice was lost to him anyway.

“Shhh, anor nín, do to try to speak,” Elladan whispered, his large hand rubbing comforting circles across his back.

“Aye, we have got you 'Las, you are safe.” Elrohir agree, burying his nose behind the prince's ear. 

Eventually, the overwrought feeling began to pass, cradled in the loving arms of his twins, and an unexpected giggle bubbled up in his chest.

In answer to the bemused looks, he gestured with his head and said, “I think it might have been a mistake to place the tray next to the fire, the cheese has melted everywhere,” to which the twins gave a harmonious chuckle.

After receiving a kiss to each of their temples, the twins stood, Elrohir collecting the tray and Elladan aiding the prince to his feet.

“Come, let us have a quick bite before we retire,” he said.

“You wish to sleep?” Legolas asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

“Eventually,” Elladan grinned, “But not before you return the favour.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, we had hoped to fall into a nice clean bed,” Elrohir said, surveying the state of the hastily arranged linens. “But instead, we get this, all rumpled with your tossings and turnings,” he chastised, but not unkindly.

Nevertheless, Legolas blushed at the state of the room. His pack was left on the floor, its contents spilling out, and while his clothes had been cleared away for the laundry, the room had a distinctly lived-in feel, even though he'd only been there a night.

“Looks like the maid missed these as well,” Elladan called, entering the room holding up the leggings he's hastily discarded in the washroom which still bared the stains of his pleasure.

Legolas' blush intensified as he crossed over to Elladan to snatch the damning evidence away from him.

“Aim a shot between my eyes from my slovenly ways then, 'Dan, I apologise. I will change the bed for you,” he snapped, well aware of how petulant he sounded and pointedly ignoring the barely restrained smiles of his lovers.

Elladan approached as he began to strip the sheets off the bed and hugged him from behind, laying his cheek on the nape of his neck. “Don't be angry, anor nín. 'Twas merely a jest. These quarters are as much yours as ours.”

“Aye, exactly,” Elrohir said, bringing forth fresh linens, “We knew full well how messy wood-elves were when we let you in here,” he said, barking out a laugh when Legolas landed a pillow square in his face.

When the bed was made the three exhausted elves stripped off and nestled between the sheets, pale limbs tangled together, warm skin rubbing tantalisingly against warm skin. But there was no frantic rush to start rutting, they simply laid back and enjoyed the dulcifying rhythm of each other's breathing.

“What did you think about?” Elrohir asked quietly, brushing his cheek over Legolas' smooth, solid pectoral muscle that served as his pillow.

“Hmm?” The prince asked, content to the point of dozing off as Elladan ran his fingers through his freshly unbraided hair.

The younger twin tilted his face up to look at his lover with a cheeky glint in his eyes, “When you spilled in your leggings like an overzealous adolescent,” he said.

Legolas snorted at the harmless jibe, “Your fusing,” he spoke honestly. “Watching from a distance is privileged enough, but when you request for me join with you, 'tis,” Legolas paused for a moment, suddenly overcome with emotion. He swallowed to steady himself then continued, “When we couple during your fusing 'tis a feeling of pure love and I find myself almost unworthy of it.”

His eyes met each of the twins' in turn, gauging their reaction in the silent moment before they both wrapped tighter around him. “You are more than worthy, 'Las,” Elladan murmured his heart clenching with adoration as he kissed the prince's ear, making him shudder.

Elrohir turned to crawl over his body and captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, conveying how much Legolas' words had meant to him with lips and tongue alone. Breaking away he shared a look with his brother, silently discussing the next move while the prince recovered his breath.

“But tonight, we would like you between us,” he said before dipping his head to suckle a small red oval onto his creamy skin. “Just as we began.”

What followed was a languid seduction of the most delicious kind, each elf doing his part to leave the other two in a puddle of raw sensation. By the time Elladan reached for the oil, all three were littered with lover's marks, some pale pink and barely there, others deep purple, tender to the touch, and ringed with the imprints of teeth.

Turning back towards the bed, Elladan was momentarily held captive by the image of his lovers entwined. Hot breath fogging starlit skin which glowed in the light of the bedside candle as they withered. Their tongues reaching out to each other, their teeth clashing, such was the eagerness of their lust. Hips thrusting, forceful but unhurried, to achieve maximum friction for their aching arousals which left sticky trails of want down each other's abdomens.

_Are you going to stand there and watch all night, el nín? Or are you going to come back and take me?_

Legolas' sensual touch with his mind was accompanied by a subtle wiggle of his hips, an open invitation to hurry their lovemaking along.

“Merely taking a moment to enjoy the view, anor nín,” he said, climbing back onto the bed and settling behind the prince, pressing a kiss to his sweat-damp shoulder.

Deftly flicking open the top of the vial he poured a generous amount of the fragrant oil into the palm of his hand then coated two of his fingers, warming it as he went.

He hooked his chin over Legolas' arm so he could observe his lovers getting lost in each other's mouths. Gently shifting his lover's top leg forward, the elder twin ran his slicked fingers down Legolas' cleft to rub teasingly against his puckered entrance.

The lewd display of sliding tongues was interrupted when Elladan's first finger breached and Legolas gasped into Elrohir's mouth. The younger twin pulled back with a smile and stroked the golden fly away hairs back from the prince's face.

“Does it feel good, anor nín?” He asked, hitching breath making his voice quiver.

Legolas could not reply with words as Elladan chose that moment to add a second finger, carefully scissoring him open. The prince could only groan into Elrohir's shoulder, pushing back into the glorious stretch.

“Have a pity, el nín,” Elrohir chided, rubbing the princes back with a gentling hand, “I doubt our wood-elf can take much more.”

The elder twin saw reason and pulled his fingers free then leant over to kiss his brother soundly.

“Then let us proceed,” he said, pressing the oil vial into Legolas' shaking hand.

“Just slick yourself, anor nín, I want to feel you properly,” Elrohir said, turning so his back was to the others.

Legolas rested his head on Elrohir's shoulder blade and poured a puddle of oil into his palm then tentatively stroking it over his arousal, conscious that too much pressure would end their activities before they'd begun.

Circling his arm around the elf-knight’s waist he pressed closer and lined himself up with his inviting entrance.

“I love you,” he said in a hazy mumble.

“Love you- _Oh...too_ ,” Elrohir trailed off as Legolas pressed forward in a slow but persistent push, sheathing himself in the snug heat of his lover's passage.

Legolas panted softly against his back, trying desperately to control the roiling heat of pleasure which coursed through his veins. The muscles of his arm flexed, clutching Elrohir tighter against him and the younger twin covered the hand on his stomach with his own to link their fingers together.

“'Dan, please... Ai, el nín, now... _please_ ,” he gasped and Elladan was quick to line himself up and thrust into his trembling channel.

They lay still for a moment, simply breathing together, calming themselves before the need to move grew too great and they slowly started to rock against one another. What were at first deliberate, measured thrusts soon became something much more erratic. Their erotic play had left them thrumming with want, so it wasn't long before Legolas – who was frantically thrusting forward then pushing back against Elladan length – brought his and Elrohir's hands down to clasp the elf-knight’s erection together.

The younger twin's shaft, which had been leaking steady, was now slick and hot to the touch. After just a few pulls he was arching, spilling himself over their joined hands. The velvet-soft walls that surrounded Legolas squeezed him rhythmically and moments later he too was howling his release.

Four more deep, hard thrusts later, Elladan was following suit; his seed gushing forth, making Legolas moan at the feel of it.

They remained buried inside one another for some time, savouring the closeness until necessity dictated the need to move. Untangling himself from the floppy limbed twins, Legolas took himself off to the bathing chamber returning with warm damp towels and tenderly cleaned his lovers before seeing to himself.

By the time he crawled back into the bed, the sated Peredhil were barely conscious but still managed to pull him close, cuddling in at either side before the three of them were lost to reverie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Rohir Nín - My Knight  
> Anor Nín - My Sun  
> El Nín - My Star  
> Melethron – Lover


	4. A Grave Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment has arrived: The free folk of Middle Earth are assembled and a choice must be made. And though it pains them all, for some the outcome hits a little closer to home than they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days?! Wahhht?! This is the final fully written chapter I have that was written a long while back. I am hoping to keep this ball rolling and get a few more chapters written soon to who knows when they will get uploaded... sorry I'm a slow coach! 
> 
> Anywho! As always feedback is appreciated, and feel free to reach out in the usual places!
> 
> All credit for the fanwork this fanwork is based on -[Princes Three Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2989)\- goes to the marvellous [Minuial_Nuwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuial_Nuwing/pseuds/Minuial_Nuwing), in whose galaxy of talent I merely a comet passing through :)

A beam of brilliant sunlight filtered down through an unseen canopy to create a pool of dancing, dappled light upon the soft ground. Elrohir stood, quite at ease, enjoying the warmth as it bathed his face. When he looked around him, however, he saw that the strength of the light failed little more than an arm’s reach away, and the landscape all around him was draped in shadow.

He looked down at his own body, which was clothed in fine silk, shimming in the bright light. Slowly he began to realise that his hand was outstretched, clutching the fingers of another. Following the pleasingly muscled arm up to the body it belonged to, he found Legolas standing with his back to him, staring out into the darkness. Elrohir tried to peer around his lover to see what had captured his attention but he saw nothing but cloying gloom.

All of a sudden, Legolas turned towards him, his beautiful, pale features complemented by the glow of the sun's rays. He fixed Elrohir with a pointed stare as though telling him with his eyes to stay put. Then much to the elf-knight's horror he gradually he began to pull away. Try as he might, Elrohir could not keep hold of Legolas's hand, nor it seemed, could he give in to the persistent pull and follow the prince as he stepped out of the circle of the light and into the beginnings of the shadow.

He maintained eye contact with Elrohir even as their fingers separated, and when he stood alone in the semi-dark he smiled. But it was not a smile of joy. It was a sad smile, full of longing and regret, tinged with the sweetest affection; a look of pure devotion in a maelstrom of grief.

Elrohir tried to shout, to say something to stop Legolas from walking into the murky wilderness but he found his voice stolen from him. Before he could fight against the constriction around his throat, Legolas turned and stepped freely into the darkness, leaving the visible world which surrounded Elrohir all the dimmer for his disappearance, as though the Prince was indeed the very sun that warmed him.

The screams and cries of sorrow were lodged in his throat and as he thrashed around to try and free them, he found himself tangled in bedclothes with soothing hands stroking his hair.

“Shh, Shh, rohir nín,” Legolas's voice wafted through the haze of panic and confusion.

“Hush, melethron. All is well, shh,” he cooed, a firm arm over Elrohir's chest, holding him down, the fingers of the other hand combing through his sweat-damp hair. Legolas felt a stirring at his back.

“'Roh?” Elladan's sleepy voice called out.

Keeping his arm draped over Elrohir, Legolas turned and kissed the older twin’s forehead.

“It's ok, ‘twas merely a nightmare,” he whispered.

“S'alright, 'Roh,” Elladan mumbled, reaching out to pat his brother's hip before snuggling down against Legolas's shoulder blades again.

When he turned toward Elrohir once more, the elf-knight was staring up at him with big, moonish eyes, full of fear, but very much returned to reality.

“Back with us?” Legolas said kindly, a smile dancing in his eyes.

Elrohir's nod was barely there and Legolas's brows knitted together with concern.

“Talk to me, rohir nín,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to his lover's and cupping his jaw in his hands.

Though it was dark, and he could see very little, Legolas felt the wetness on Elrohir's cheeks. Even as he brushed each tear away with his thumbs still they fell, snaking their way down the pathways marked out by their fellows.

They breathed each other's breath for a long moment until Elrohir tilted his head up and kissed him. Just a brief brush of lips at first, but then gradually more purposeful, pressing harder each time. Before long, the kiss was almost bruising, biting teeth and a wicked tongue, and Legolas found himself being pressed back into the bed.

There was a ferocity to these kisses that the Prince had not experienced since the Lady Celebrian had been attacked and subsequently passed into the West. There was a possessiveness about them, as though one or the other of them could be snatched away at any moment.

But when Legolas finally tasted the coppery tang of blood, he had to bring proceedings to a halt. Placing his hands on his lover's shoulders he pushed the devouring mouth away, then sweetened the harsh gesture with a gentling hand on his face.

“'Roh, stop. You're going to hurt yourself!” He implored softly, and at last, in the dim light, he saw Elrohir take hold of himself again.

“'Las... Oh, _'Las_ I'm sorry,” he breathed, burying his face in the Prince's neck.

“Shh, it's ok, there is no need to apologise,” Legolas said, stroking up and down his spine.

Eventually, the younger twin’s breathing returned to normal.

“Here, come lie in the middle,” Legolas said, shifting to the side and arranging the curiously affected elf between himself and Elladan.

Automatically, Elladan's arm came around his brother's waist. Legolas then settled himself next to Elrohir, allowing the elf-knight to cling onto him as an elfling would to the high branch of a tree.

With Legolas stroking his hair, the fresh, earthy smell that always surrounded the wood-elf filling his nostrils, and the solid, life-long security his brother provided, Elrohir was able to slip into a fitful sleep. But still, that sense of impending doom clung to him like the smoke from an orc pyre, permeating his very being and lodging itself firmly inside his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

If you'd told Legolas that when he awoke, he was being crushed by a warg, he almost would have believed you, were it not for the fact the creature which suffocated him had a much most pleasant scent.

The Prince felt overly hot, sweating profusely, with his entire body covered by another's, and black hair smothering his face. He tried to shift away and blow the tickling tresses out of his face with puffs of breath but the body above him simply gripped him tighter. That was when he realised it was Elrohir.

“'Rooooh,” he groaned, pushing harder at the dead weight on top of him, “I can't breathe and I'm going to die of heat exhaustion,” Legolas complain.

He was fully expecting Elrohir to refuse to move, or even feign deep sleep as he had been known to do when he didn’t want to get up, but it was as though Legolas had taken a riding crop to his unsuspecting behind. The elf-knight practically flew into the air, scrambling frantically to remove himself from Legolas's body then started to examine him, seemingly for signs of injury, with wild eyes peeking out from behind his messy curtain of hair.

“I'm sorry! Forgive me! Are you well? Did I hurt you?” He asked, his voice rising into a panicked pitch.

Legolas frowned in disbelief. “Yes, of course, I'm well. Roh, what _is_ the matter?” He demanded, his alarm and concern for his lover pushing him a little to closer to annoyance than was strictly necessary.

Elrohir blinked a few times then swept his long hair away from his face and gave Legolas a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Nothing, anor nín. I was still half asleep.” Then he settled back against the Prince's side and mewled happily when he was drawn into a sloppy, good morning kiss.

Not long later Elladan was woken by the gently rocking of rutting elves and joined the dawn-time fun until they all lay in a comfortable, sated pile.

“We should wash and dress before the breakfast chimes,” Elladan mumbled.

“I'll start,” Legolas announced dragging himself from the bed and away to the bathing chamber, wiggling his naked rump teasingly at his lovers as he went.

Elrohir felt his heart flutter with a strange panic as he watched Legolas's back retreating and worried his lip. He knew he was being irrational, that his dream had been just that - a dream. He had never had an inkling of the foresight his brother had experienced on occasion. And even then, Elladan had seen glimpses of solid, believable events, and, although they were hazing, they were rational. Not like the abstract mess that had been Elrohir's nightmare.

But still, the dread he had felt in his heart was yet to dissipate. He looked up from where he'd been twisting the sheet between his fingers and saw Elladan staring at him keenly, his grey eyes penetrating him with a startling intensity that was so reminiscent of their father.

“Talk,” he stated in a way that brokered no argument.

Elrohir sighed heavily and crawled closer to his twin who held out his arms and allowed him to sit between his spread legs, back to chest, before wrapping them around his waist.

“Did you have a dream last night? About 'Las?” Elrohir asked in a quiet voice, his head falling back against his elder brother's shoulder.

“Not that I recall no,” Elladan said, “I'm assuming this is about your nightmare.”

Elrohir nodded.

“Rohir nín, my beloved, I have no doubt it was nothing more than strange reverie, brought on by exhaustion and stress. These have not been easy times, it's no wonder your mind is using sleep as an outlet for worry.”

Elrohir relaxed at his brother's soothing logic. “You're right of course, tôren,” he sighed.

“Of course I am,” Elladan said smugly and began to kiss his brother's neck until the last of the tension drained away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite Elladan's easing words, Elrohir still felt the excessive need to be close to Legolas throughout the rest of the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to care too much about it. In the sobering light of day, he merely wrote it off as excitement at being reunited with his lover once more. So, when he rushed to be the one to sit next to Legolas at breakfast like an over-eager elfling, he refused to admit to himself that it was more than just the vitality of love. The fact that he was ensuring that at least one part of their bodies were touching at all times was irrelevant. He would never admit that it was actually a reassurance that Legolas was present and whole, and not about to burst into a million piece which would float away on the breeze.

The behaviour did not go unnoticed by Elladan, who studied his brother surreptitiously. At first glance, it appeared that Legolas paid no heed their lover's strange actions. That was until he locked eyes with the older twin and Elladan realised he was very much aware, and similarly concerned.

As they were finished up their meal of preserved fruits and hearty, butter-slathered bread, Lord Elrond turned his attention to his sons.

“I must speak with you both ahead of the council's forgathering,” he said gravely, studying them both intently, the subtle lines that had formed around his eyes since his wife's parting deepening slightly.

“Of course, Ada,” Elladan nodded.

“We will go to my office,” Elrond said, dabbing the corners of his mouth on the linen napkin as he rose to leave and caught sight of Elrohir tugged Legolas up to follow. He raised a hand to halt them.

“Legolas, you need not accompany us. I am aware you have preparation to attend to before you address the congregation about Gollum.”

“Of course, híren,” the Prince said, giving a small bow. But Elrohir suddenly looked irritated.

“He can do that after, Ada, there's nothing you need to say to us that 'Las cannot hear,” he almost scoffed at the thought.

“It's fine, 'Roh, I need to find Tiri, and-”

“No!”

Elrohir's near frantic outburst startled them all. The strangeness of his behaviour could no longer be ignored, and a slight flush crept into the elf-knight face at his sudden irrationality.

“My apologies, I...” he mumbled stiffly, “We will see you at the council then?” He asked, his jaw tensing as he attempted to regain his composure. He was a warrior for Eru’s sake! Acting like a silly child!

“Aye,” Legolas nodded the ghost of a frown lingering on his brow, then kissed him sweetly and pushed him in the direction of his father.

When Elrohir turned back to look, Legolas had already gone, disappeared into the crowd of elves leaving for their morning duties and a chill ran through him. But then Elladan was at his side taking his hand, so he squared his shoulders, raised his chin in his typical bullish defiance of weakness and vowed to put his childish worries behind him.

~~~~~~~~~

As the twins trailed after their father through the winding corridors of the Last Homely House to his office beyond the library, they could feel the air almost crackling with trepidation. Imladris had often been a hive of activity, as a bustling haven for elvish and mankind alike, but today there lingered an unease that was normally absent from this sanctuary of peace.

Erestor could be seen sweeping here and there, organising everything bar the changing of the winds, his face more serious and his austere black robes more formal than usual. He barely even acknowledged the twins when he passed them, instead focusing on barking orders at some ancient dignitary in Quenya, thrusting rolls of parchment into his hands and ushering him away to some unknown engagement.

By the time they reach Lord Elrond's inner sanctum, all three were bristling with agitation. Elrond sat down heavily in his high-backed chair and sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging under what seemed to be the weight and expectation of all of Middle Earth.

Elladan and Elrohir sat opposite him, their backs straight and to attention. In times gone by they may have lounged in the company of their father, relaxed together as equals, as family. But those were times of peace and long since passed. Now they remained poised, soldiers before their captain.

Elrond levelled his discerning grey gaze at them both.

“I know you are aware of the magnitude of today's gathering, and I know that you would offer your services to whatever quest or initiative is decided upon today. But I would ask you, as your Lord, to refrain from pledging yourselves at this juncture.”

Twin brows furrowed at their father's words, but Elrond went on before either could speak.

“I feel, nay, I _know_ , that this is not your moment. There will be a role for you in the coming war, a time when you will be well placed to go to the aid of those in need, but now is not that time. Whatever happens today, you must give me your word that you will not act rashly.”

“What have you seen, Ada?” Elladan asked astutely, causing Elrohir to look sharply from one to the other.

Elrond shifted almost imperceptively in his seat, but his steady scrutiny never faltered, and after a brief pause he spoke.

“Nothing with any clear validity, shall we say. But the fact remains that Imladris still needs protection. And you may yet be required to ride out, to ensure clear passage to the edges of our lands for any group departing here on a mission of importance. Your place is yet within these borders.”

“We understand, my lord, of course,” Elrohir said, bowing his head in deference, his duty and loyalty to his land and lord superseding his gnawing sense of foreboding.

Their father studied them for a long time, drinking in their features as though to capture this moment, the calm before the coming storm. But such a moment could not last forever. When he opened his mouth to speak again a swift rap on the door halted him. He closed his eyes briefly, then with a sharp inhale through his nose, he seemed to reinflate himself again and called for the visitor to enter.

Glorfindel stuck his golden head through the doorway, and though he looked as haggard as Erestor, he still managed a smile and a wink at the twins. 

“My lord, Erestor is in need of your last-minute assistance with the seating plan. The dwarven party is unhappy to not be sat at the head of the committee,” he said. His was tone deep and serious but Elrohir's sharp eye picked up on the subtle, amused twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Elrond's eye widened and he raised his eyebrows in incredulity before dropping his head into his hands. “It's a circle!” he wailed; voice muffled by his palms. “We are to be sat in a circle!”

The twins took that as their cue to leave and as they slipped through the doorway, Glorfindel's laughing eyes told them he wished he could go with them.

Once they were out in the relative privacy of the library Elrohir turned to study his twin, who was deep in thought.

“Do you think he says that as a father or a strategist?” He asked.

Elladan brought them to a halt and leant against one of the bookcases, his eyes travelling around the room as he mulled the question over.

“Can it not be both?” He finally suggested.

Elrohir gave a huff and rolled his eyes at his brother's diplomacy. He had been spending too much time with Erestor.

“No, not really,” he retorted crossing his armed over his chest, prickly irritability combining with his barely suppressed worry. 

Elladan sighed and let his head drop back with a thump against the hard wooden shelf.

“I think he speaks with a strategic bent, but he is not averse to keeping us close for as long as possible. What father would not want that?” He levelled his eyes at Elrohir. “But you know as well as I do, Ada is no stranger to warfare, and sacrificing whatever is necessary for the greater good. When our time to move against the enemy comes, he will not shield us from our duty,” he finished with a firm nod, as though he had successfully shut down any lingering doubt in himself as well as his brother.

It seemed Elrohir was suitably pacified and he offered him a curt nod in return before leaning in and giving his brother a little peck on the lips to seal the deal.

He took Elladan's hand and pulled him towards the courtyard. “Come, let us find our beloved Chief Councillor before he snaps and murders the whole of the valley.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The apprehension was palpable as Lord Elrond finally opened the Council. With the Men shifting in their seats, the Dwarves huffing and grumbling under their breath, and the Elves all sitting like statues save for the occasional nostril flare of annoyance. But as the hours dragged on and the bickering continued to flare up, the overriding feelings were that of irritation and boredom.

The only enjoyable part for the twins so far had been when Legolas stood to make his report. They had beamed at him encouragingly from the opposite side of the circle and when he's retaken his seat, their minds drifted briefly over to his.

_Beautifully put, anor nín._

_Aye, and you looked so handsome! You should use that commanding voice in the bed-chamber._

_Elrohir!_ Elladan and Legolas chorused.

_What? You’d love it too! I'm half-hard over here just thinking about it._

_'Roh, please, for the love of Eru, shut up._

Elrohir did a far better job of hiding his snicker than Legolas did of hiding his blush, and as punishment, the woodland prince shut the twins out of his mind from that point forward.

There was much toing and froing, with suggestions being thrown out and shot down all over the place. Elladan winced a little during the moment that Erestor and Glorfindel disagreed with each other, fearing that such a fraught discussion could cause problems for them in their private life. But, when the discussion moved on, he saw them lock eyes from where they sat on either side of Elrond, communicating silently to salve any hurts their harsh words may have caused. The elder twin smiled to himself and hoped one day he and Elrohir would have that strong a bond with their feisty wood-elf, and pondered if, perchance, they didn’t have it already, after all they had been through together.

Eventually, though, a consensus began to form, though it was not one that any of them were particularly happy about. The Ring must be destroyed, that much was clear, and the topic then turned to who indeed would complete such a task. Elladan and Elrohir kept to their word and did not attempt to volunteer themselves, even when their fostered brother stood and pledged his sword to the cause.

Elrohir felt a clench in his chest and sensed an echo of a similar feeling within his twin, but Aragorn's announcement did not come as a surprise. They had known for some time that a great destiny lay at his feet and this seemed like the best opportunity to begin fulfilling it.

_I guess that is why Ada asked us not to act rashly. Perhaps he worried we would follow him… to try and protect him._

Elladan's sad but resigned voice sounded in Elrohir's head. The elf-knight nodded in reply and sent a small wave of comfort through their connection to try and ease his brother's heart.

But neither had been prepared for what then followed.

An Elvish member of the company? Well, of course, that made sense! At least one member of each free race should undertake this quest - that was a decent strategy. Elrohir had almost zoned out by this point, with himself and his brother having already been dismissed as options. He expected a plucky member of Glorfindel's guard to step forward - trying the prove his worth, or perhaps Galdor - he seemed like a fair choice. So, he did not initially register Legolas raising from his seat and stepping forward. In fact, he did not even realise what was happening until the words had already left his lover's mouth and there was no chance of averting disaster.

“I would accompany you, Master Frodo. I would seek to protect you with all that my elven skill can muster. That is, of course, if the council sees it fit?”

“Aye,” Elrond spoke gravely, his voice betraying nothing more than polite formality. “You will make a fine addition to the company, Legolas.”

Elrohir blink several times, trying to make sense of the scene before him. It was as if he were in a daydream. The colours seemed too bright, the voices of those around him sounded distant and echoey as though he were underwater. He managed to focus on Legolas's face - even though the world felt like it was spinning too fast - and the prince returned his gaze steadily and smiled.

In that moment, Elrohir felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. His vision started to close in, his peripherals turning black, and all he could see was that smile. That sad smile, full of longing and regret. A smile that spoke of crushing grief and pure devotion. Of the sweetest love and the harshest pain. The exact same smile he had seen in his dream that had struck ice cold fear into his heart. And he was sure knew then what it meant. He believed he has fathomed in the depths of his soul the truth behind the chilling scene in he had witnessed in his mind. It had been a premonition; Legolas was going to die.

He could feel his brother was trying to enter his mind. He knew he was calling to him, scratching at the door he had closed firmly against Elladan's intrusion. As soon as the words “meeting adjourned” fell from his father's lips he was on his feet of out of the council chamber, trying to put as much distance as he physically could between himself and this new hellish reality.

~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas had seen the flight of his lovers, but he was caught in the crowd of people that had surrounded the fellowship, offering words of support and encouragement. Legolas was trying his best not to let the gravity of what he had done overwhelm him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with all these well-wishers around that he barely even knew. All he wanted was to speak with his twins, to feel their comforting touch and words of wisdom. He was proud of what he had done, honoured to have been considered fit for such a role, but that did not mean he didn't want a calming hand in his hair and a soothing voice to give him strength.

Eventually, he managed to extract himself from the gathering and took off at a sprint. Not finding Elladan or Elrohir outside in the hallway, he headed in the most likely direction. By the time he caught up with them, they were nearly back at trio's shared chambers, Elrohir marching ahead with Elladan scampering after him, hissing his name pleadingly.

Legolas's brow twitched with the hint of a frown, but he dismissed it immediately. The twins may be shocked by his pledge, but they would not have a problem with it surely, and at this point he just needed to be close to them once more.

“Where are you two sneaking off to then?” He called after them, jogging to catch up, a smile creeping into his voice as they came to a stop.

But when Elrohir wheeled around to face him, the burgeoning smile slid away.

“Oh, my apologies! So, you expect us to consult you on all of _our_ decisions, but you fail to extend the same courtesy us,” he spat.

Legolas stopped short, utterly confused by the venomous tone his lover had taken.

“'Roh, please,” Elladan warned in a low voice.

Legolas opened and closed his mouth like a fish, utterly perplexed by what was happening.

“I... What? Forgive me, I am confused. Have I done something to upset you?” he asked, his pale eyebrows pinching together in concern.

Elrohir's eyes narrowed dangerously and the muscles in his jaw twitched as his face split into a cruel smile.

“Hmm, let me think...” He said theatrically, stroking his chin in mock contemplation. “What could you have possibly done in the past few moments that would have upset us?” His voice oozed with biting sarcasm and Legolas's mind began to race.

  
“Elrohir!” Elladan admonished, his face spelling out his distress. He gripped his brother's arm and trying to pull him away, but Elrohir shook him off aggressively.

Legolas was feeling mightily confused. “Is this about the Fellowship? I... I thought you'd be please?” He said hesitantly. This was certainly not the reaction he had been expecting. Not at all.

“Pleased?!” Elrohir snarled, flicks of angry spittle flying from his mouth. “Why in the name of Eru would we be _pleased_?!” He drew a deep breath as if he were trying to rein in his desire to tear Legolas to shreds. He then spoke with a calm bitterness that cut through the air like a whip. “No, Your Majesty, you'll have to head back to your back-slapping, woodland fellows to fulfil your glory hunting needs.”

Elladan's sharp inhale of shock fell on deaf ears.

Legolas felt as though he had been stabbed in the heart. He flinched backwards away from this strange aggressive elf that had replace his beloved, sweet, Elrohir.

Even as the words left his mouth, the elf-knight felt a strong flash of regret mingling with his unreasonable anger, but the damage was done. He watched as Legolas's eyes hardened with pain and his body tense as though prepared for an attack. _Another attack_ \- Elrohir thought, already cursing his quick and thoughtless temper.

Legolas said nothing, he merely gave a single nod then turned to leave.

It was only then that the older twin could hold back no longer.

“Legolas, wait,” Elladan called, fear and confusion churning in his gut. He brushed past Elrohir and felt him shrink back into their chambers. Striding after his fair-haired lover, he clasping his arm to try and stop him from leaving, to try and resolve this now before it festered; but Legolas gently pulled it free.

“It's ok Elladan, I understand,” he said with a small, sad smile. But Elladan did not think he did.

“You know what 'Roh's like, he... he's hot-headed, you both are!” He tried light-heartedly but the humour did not register on Legolas's face.

“He just needs to calm down, take it all in, then we can talk about what to do next.” He reached out again to try and bring some comfort to the wood-elf but again Legolas stepped out of his reach.

“Yes, of course,” he said blankly, then turned strode back to towards the council chamber, leaving Elladan once again stranded and lost between his two warring lovers, his heart torn in two directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rohir Nín - My Knight  
> Anor Nín - My Sun  
> El Nín - My Star  
> Melethron – Lover  
> Tôren - Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> (Any translations done by me are potentially wrong, please be kind)


End file.
